


After All

by friendlybomber



Series: Only Friends After All [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: "no homo" they say as they suck each other's dicks, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts, a bit of a power play thing, i honestly feel the need to bathe in holy water, join me in hell, sin: part two, this is porn about two us presidents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5236199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlybomber/pseuds/friendlybomber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only friends, they had said that night several weeks ago. But it was never enough. Sooner or later, the clouds would have to burst. And, God, would it be worth it.</p>
<p>Thomas Jefferson and James Madison are definitely still just friends. Definitely. Having sex doesn't change anything.<br/>(Sequel to "Only Friends")</p>
            </blockquote>





	After All

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist writing a sequel. I'm so sorry. Take the filth and get out.
> 
> Alternatively titled: Sin, the Sequel: A One-Way Ticket to Hell

Only friends, they had said that night several weeks ago. Ah yes, that night. The night half-remembered, half spent in each other’s arms, in each other’s mouths. That night which was marked by hazy memories of passionate kisses and furtive feelings. That night revealed in the morning through angry red suck marks on necks and jaws. Only friends. That’s what they had said.

What a farce.

The satisfaction they had felt the day after lasted only for a few days more. Emotions, hormones, they have a tendency of building up and up until they are released in an explosive burst. After the nuclear strike that was that night, the… _cravings_ for each other had drained away, dwindled to nothing. However, the space they filled was still there. And soon enough, not even a week later, it all came back more intensely, eroding the walls of their minds and carving out a deeper space within them- and they yearned for more.

The craving was the worst part. It was all Thomas could do not to scream whenever he saw his friend- that or push him against the wall and steal his breath with a string of thirsty kisses. He honestly wasn’t sure which he would rather have. His seldom idle mind looped back around endlessly to James- _to the possibilities, oh God, if they only were alone again._ When night crept in with thoughts of his friend, of James pressed against him somewhere dark, of James creeping a hand down Thomas’s breeches… Well, Thomas had the tendency to steal away to his bed either with Sally or claims of a migraine. But it was never enough. Sooner or later, the clouds would have to burst. And, God, would it be worth it.

James faced a little more confusion on the matter, unused as he was to sexual tension or frustration. The unfamiliar feeling his friend stirred in the pit of his stomach was troubling at best, downright panic-inducing at worst. Still, though, his sinful – surely they must be wrong, at least – longings persisted. His waking consciousness was tainted with the ungodly visions of Thomas’s kiss-swollen lips, his head tilted back, his eyes closed in ecstatic pleasure, his legs spread wide apart and his- _no_. Enough. Something had to be done. Immediately. Enough was enough.

James was too slow in resolving his inner conflicts to make the first move. Written correspondence arrived in his office, scrawled in Thomas’s squiggly informal handwriting, the very same day James set his heart on ensnaring his friend once again. Not a word in the letter outright stated the intent of the visit, but the innuendo behind every word was enough to send a blush creeping up James’s neck. Not always the most eloquent while speaking (although confident enough to hold his own), Thomas had quite the way with written word. James tossed the letter in the fire once he sent his response. He would not allow prying eyes, future historians, or himself the satisfaction of viewing such troubling implications. What was to be done was to occur off the records- a stolen moment, long-awaited, well-earned. It was time to shake off the fears once and for all. Thomas and James were only friends. What they were to do would not change that.   

The thoughts that raced through his mind as he travelled to his friend’s estate – not, unfortunately, his beautiful home in their home state – were not the sort he cared to share aloud. A strong part of him, the feral, virile part, was more than eager to pay his good friend a visit. His moral, prudish opposition grew weaker and weaker as he approached his destination, and weaker yet when Thomas greeted him at the door, done up in tight velvet and silk and appearing to the world like the most magnificent thing conceivable by any sane person. It was intentional. It had to be. He was _trying_ to drive James mad. Why else would he wear breeches that hugged his thighs in all the right places, or a waist jacket that showed off his well-built, muscular form? Oh, God. If James stood a little too close as they walked together, or lingered a little too long when their arms brushed, who could blame him? He was rather proud that he managed to stay civil for long enough to get behind closed doors.   

At Thomas’s sly suggestion, they slinked into his study under the guise of work. The curtains were drawn, and James heard him inform a slave that they had very important business to discuss, and were not to be disturbed under any circumstances. James’s heart pounded in his chest. Thomas seemed to be taking his sweet time in joining him inside. Finally, he stepped through the doorway. The heavy oak door closed with a dull thud. The click of the lock resounded around the room. Finally.  

James leant his weight against the desk with crossed arms, eyeing Thomas with an unreadable expression. They said nothing. The air in the office was thick with something deep and groggy. The entire place smelled like Thomas- musky, seductive, and unmistakably French. Thomas spun around slowly on his heel, his shoes squeaking quietly on the wooden floor. He stalked toward James with predatory calm, eyes dark and gleaming with what could be nothing more than pure lust. Their eyes met, and James’s lips parted ever so slightly as he realized just how close to having what he so desperately needed he was. Thomas, in all his tight velvet glory, walked as if on a tight rope, one foot stretching out in front of the other in a straight line, arms poised confidently at his sides, head held high and haloed by his wild, untamable hair. James’s eyes never left him the entire way.

He arrived before his friend and smoothly wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him away from the desk and pressing their hips together in one fluid, practiced motion. A jolt shot through both of them when they touched. Finally, they had no need to hide themselves. They had each other, and they were far, far away from the watchful eyes of society. And, God, would they relish in it.

Their faces were close enough to be intimate, far enough away for anticipation to build with each shallow, hot breath. Thomas licked his lips and flickered his eyes all over James’s face, something needy in his expression. Every breath he took clouded James’s mind with some fog akin to the whiskey that had brought them together in the first place.

Thomas cleared his throat softly. “Whatever happens here is not to leave this room, understand? It means nothing.”

It was James’s turn to study Thomas’s face. He swallowed thickly. “Of course.”

Thomas smiled for half a second, cheeky, flirtatious- the same smile he used on women when he could bear it. Then he leant in and captured James’s lips in a heated kiss. James could taste his friend’s desperation as he pulled readily at his lips with his own. He sighed like a parched man sipping water for the first time in days, breathing sharply through his nose, eyes closed. James wrapped his arms around Thomas’s neck, bending into the kiss and responding by prodding his tongue into Thomas’s mouth. The older man pulled him even closer, free arm wrapping around his neck possessively.

Thomas’s teeth clamped down gingerly on James’s bottom lip, and it sent sparks of electricity coursing through his veins. James moaned thickly into his mouth, hands ghosting over the back of his purple velvet overcoat. Thomas pulled his mouth away from James’s and pressed it, opened slightly, to his jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin. His mouth moved, hot and greedy, down James’s jawline, down his neck, teeth and lips and tongue eloquently spelling out just how much he had yearned for this onto James’s burning skin in a wordless ode. James moaned again, tilting his head back.

The thrill of being so close again was enough to send the blood boiling hot in their veins. Thomas gripped James fiercely, staking a claim on his body with his mouth. He drew his tongue in a smooth, wet line up the side of James’s neck, stopping as it flicked up at his ear. He paused for just a moment, his breath hot against James’s flesh. Then his teeth closed around James’s earlobe delicately, and his hands slid down to wrap around James’s upper thighs for a moment before sliding his hands up his friend’s sides roughly in a crude caress. James responded by tugging his ear from Thomas’s mouth and placing a flurry of quick, sloppy kisses to the side of his mouth and his cheek. He breathed in deeply through his nose, and Thomas’s sweet, dark scent overpowered everything, and it was everything he had ever wanted, and it was perfect. Then, his mouth closed around Thomas’s bottom lip, and he sighed like an impassioned lover into the kiss.  

They would have been content to remain like that for some time, lips caressing and tongues daring to touch ever so slightly, but they demanded satisfaction. Already James could feel something hard pressing against his own too-tight breeches. They knew this time would not be like that night a few weeks ago; they would burn out like sparklers, quick and bright. It was already getting difficult to last long.

James broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Thomas’s. Thomas whined in protestation, sliding his hand across the back of James’s neck and to the side, causing goosebumps to erupt on his skin. He stole another kiss as a quick punctuation to tide him over.

“Let me touch you,” James requested, pulling his hands through Thomas’s hair to rest on his flushed cheeks.

“Okay,” Thomas breathed. That was all he had to say for once. The power dynamic shifted, and suddenly, Thomas seemed to almost back off as James’s hands crept to his friend’s hips. His right ghosted over the center of Thomas’s purple breeches. He firmly pressed his palm against the warm bulge, causing Thomas to bite his beautiful red kiss-stained lip. James rubbed his hand in slow, deliberate circles, creating a muffled _shish_ from the fabric of Thomas’s breeches. His friend sucked in breath, fingers clutching James’s shoulders tightly.

"You like that?” he asked. Thomas nodded, struggling to find words. “Hm?”

“Yes,” he exhaled, eyes closing. “Yes, I do- _God_.” He gasped as James applied more pressure with his hand, slowing down his circular motions further to draw every last breathy whine from his friend. Each stroke caused him to press his hips into James’s rough hand, a silent, needy request.

“Do you want more? Use your words, Thomas.” Thomas had grown painfully firm beneath his hand, pushing insistently at the fabric that rubbed over his delicate flesh. Sweet friction drove him mad, and he was finding it difficult to form words with his tongue, as it threatened to loll out of his mouth.

“Yes,” he finally choked out again. “Yes, James. Please. Please.”

James smirked. “You’re begging. Very well, then. I want it just as much as you do. Unbutton your breeches.”

“Do it for me,” Thomas shot back instantly, gaining some ground back. In sex, Thomas liked to maintain his power, but he also liked to be pleasured. Periodic displays of assertion were enough to remind his partner who was really in charge- or so he believed, anyway.

“What’s the magic word?” He cupped Thomas’s hot erection fully in his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. Thomas gasped again, stars popping over his vision.

“ _Please_ ,” he hissed.

“Okay.”

James’s hands slid to grip Thomas by waist firmly, and he slowly crouched down until his head was at hip level, so close to Thomas’s cock sheathed behind a layer of purple velvet, but so far away. He pried a hand from Thomas’s waist and unsnapped one button around the knee of his breeches, then another, then another, deliberately taking his time until the entire row was undone. He replaced his hand back where it had been and removed the other, undoing the other row of buttons with the same unhurried pace. When both legs were unbuttoned, he flicked open the waistband of the breeches with ease, and then tugged them all the way down roughly.

“You chose to wear drawers,” James noted with some disappointment, setting to work untying them. Thomas grunted in response, hands flying down to aid him. Together they loosened the strings, and James slid them down his tensed, muscular thighs to reveal his stiff cock. He elected to ignore it, slipping his garters off and rolling down his white stockings just as slowly as he had done his breeches and drawers. Thomas stepped out of his garments and gazed at James with low, expectant eyes.

“James…” he drawled, managing to sound awfully confident for a man who had been begging and whining just a few moments before. “You’re on your knees.”

“I am,” James responded, staring intently at the challenge in front of him. He had never done this before; he was unsure of what to do next, but goddamnit if he wasn’t going to figure it out.

“Let me give you a hint,” Thomas said, reading his friend’s mind. He placed a hand on the back of James’s head and guided it forward. “You suck it.”

Tentatively, James’s mouth closed around the very tip, and Thomas sighed. He nudged his head forward, leading him to take more and more into his mouth until he could no longer stand it and pulled back off quickly, gagging. Thomas released a slow, heavy breath with this, head tilting back slightly. Encouraged, James repeated the motion, careful this time to avoid gagging, and Thomas let out a soft mewl.

“James,” he sighed. “More. Don’t stop. Just go.”

James obeyed, taking Thomas fully into his mouth again. He steadily grew better at keeping himself from choking although it was a lot to take into his mouth at once, but he found himself uncomfortably short of breath. His tongue ran along the underside of the shaft as Thomas slid effortlessly in and out of his warm, wet mouth. Thomas, whose fingers gripped James’s shoulders so tightly they had turned white, groaned lewdly. His breath came in shallow, high-pitched sighs, half-formed whispers spilling out as James’s head bobbed tirelessly between his legs, filling him entirely with sticky, sweet, white hot pleasure. James’s fingers wrapped around Thomas’s hip bones for purchase, thumbs brushing light circles into his feverish skin.

Thomas tried to say something, but whatever it was fell to silence when James began doing God knows what with his tongue. Thomas cried out, his knees wobbling. He opened his eyes to look down at his friend, and the sight served only to arouse him further. Forehead coated in fine beads of sweat and cheeks growing red from lack of air, James gazed dutifully up at Thomas. The sight of his beautiful red lips wrapped perfectly around Thomas’s cock was nearly too much. Again Thomas groaned his friend’s name, one hand flying to the side of the kneeling man’s head. He stroked spastic circles around James’s ear with his thumb and bit back another groan. He wanted to last for as long as possible. He wanted the perfection to last forever.

It was too delicious, too satisfying, too right to be wrong. Thomas hurled ever closer to the edge, whispering a string of curses under his breath as he fought for control. Just at the wrong time, however, James paused, letting Thomas’s cock fall out of his mouth. He fought to regain breath in quick, raspy gasps. He looked up at Thomas and their eyes met.

“James.” His name spilled out of Thomas’s mouth like a prayer.

“Thomas,” he responded. He licked his lips and wrapped a hand around Thomas’s glistening shaft, giving it one short pump that sent the man writhing. “How are you doing?”

“Mm.”

“I said,” James growled, flicking his thumb over the underside of the tip, “how are you doing?” Thomas groaned, his knees weak. When he still did not respond, James brought his head down and licked a stripe along Thomas’s cock from base to tip. Thomas tottered, collapsing forward, and James caught him with a firm hand to the stomach. “Answer me, Thomas.”

“Good,” Thomas whimpered. “So good.”

“Get down here,” James commanded, pulling Thomas down to the ground. Thomas let himself be manipulated like a ragdoll, free to give himself over to the man who had been overwhelming him with his wicked tongue just moments before. James laid him flat on his back, knees bent and feet pressed to the floor. Placing a hand on the inside of each knee, James spread his legs apart. He wiggled between them, arms wrapped around the outside of each quivering thigh and hands planted firmly on jutting pelvic bones. His mouth was pressed to the side of Thomas’s cock, slick from saliva and pre-cum, but he did not place it in his mouth. When he spoke, his breath fogged over the hot flesh. “This is much better, don’t you think?”

“ _Argh_ ,” squeaked Thomas.

“Hm?”

“James, please, just let me-” Thomas stuttered. James chuckled, and his breath hitting Thomas’s skin elicited a breathy sigh from the prone man. “ _Please_.”

“There you go begging again,” James observed. “What happened to your pride, Thomas?” Every word caused Thomas to squirm, pressing his head into the wood floor and clenching his teeth.

“ _James._ ”

“What do you want me to do? Tell me. Come on.”

“Stop teasing me. I want you to get me off.”

“Your wish is my command.”

He licked along the underside of the shaft again, causing Thomas to arch his back off the floor and moan so loudly they both became afraid someone would hear. They were still for a moment, and when no one came seeking them, James continued, taking up Thomas’s length in his mouth again. With every insistent tug, Thomas cried out hoarsely. His eyes were shut tightly. One hand found its way to the back of James’s head, and it clutched his short curls as he bobbed up and down. The heat surrounding Thomas’s erection was blinding. When he dared open his eyes, his vision swam in pink, and every movement from James sent shocks of pleasure to his very core. As he plummeted closer and closer to climax, his moans devolved into near-silent gasps, interspersed with the occasional curse. And then those gasps mutated into James’s name, panted over and over and over again as he was overwhelmed with ecstasy, finally culminating in a long-awaited release with one final unrestrained moan. Thomas threw his head back as he came, hand dropping from James’s head in weak surrender.

As Thomas’s shuddering body fell limp, James dutifully sucked him clean, licking up any potential mess without hesitation. Thomas laid flat and stared at the ceiling as he fought for control of his body again. James patiently sat back, hands in his lap, and he watched Thomas with lidded eyes. When his friend had recovered, he sat up jerkily. His eyes were clear and bright, but a dazed expression was plastered on his face.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling James to him by the cravat. He could taste the salt on James’s lips with each kiss, but still he might have kissed him a thousand times. They were thank you’s, innumerable and hungry, devouring James’s swollen, chapped lips with vigorous zeal. Thomas was not even close to being finished expressing his thanks when he placed his hands on James’s face and halted their next kiss before it began. He was grinning loosely. “Fuck, you’re a dirty tease, James, you know that?”

“I seem to recall you expressing outrage over the implication that you might beg,” James responded, raising his eyebrows. “Who knew you actually do it better than a pauper?”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see who’ll be begging soon enough,” Thomas growled. He pulled on his breeches unceremoniously, leaving his drawers and stockings to lie still in a haphazard pile a little ways off. Sufficiently clothed, his hands flew to James’s fly. “Try not to moan too loudly.”

“Thomas, you’re a slut.”

“Do you want to cum or not?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” James fluttered his fingers along Thomas’s cheek in a gentle caress. God, he wanted him. He wanted him so bad it hurt. He had waited so long, so long, watching, yearning, fantasizing… And now, here they sat. Inches away from blind ecstasy. It was almost too much. It was perfect. “I want you to kiss me while you do it.”

“God,” Thomas muttered, pulling James’s cock out of his slate-gray pants. He let his free hand rest on James’s cheek. The gesture was almost affectionate. Thomas had softened since getting off. “Who’s the slut now?”

“Still you, Thomas. Now, are you going to just sit there and hold it or- _mm!_ ”   

Thomas silenced his impatience by pressing his mouth firmly to James’s and pumping his hand roughly up and down his friend’s shaft. Their teeth clacked together, not painfully, but uncomfortably. They recoiled for a second. Thomas ran his tongue over his front teeth, grimacing, then kissed James again more carefully, lips gliding together in an almost delicate embrace. He repositioned his body so that he loomed over James, one hand still sliding over his heated flesh, the other planted firmly on the floor, holding his weight. James laid his hand over Thomas’s, and the other he hooked around his friend’s ear, stroking the sensitive skin with his thumb smoothly. His breath was uneven and ragged, and his eyes were squeezed shut, betraying his enthusiastic reception to Thomas’s touch.

The world around them faded away, and all that remained was the two of them, Thomas somehow making what James had no doubt was history with his tongue, and James swimming in the intoxicating feeling of Thomas’s hand twisting around his cock in just the right way. Yes, this was what he had waited for. This was the thought that had consumed him for weeks, and it was better than he could have ever hoped for. Thomas’s movements were rough and unpracticed, but deliciously effective, and each stroke sent the breath from James’s lungs. A tiny moan spilled from his mouth into Thomas’s, and he could feel his friend’s lips curl up in a self-satisfied smirk.

“That was hot,” he murmured into the kiss. “Do it again.”

“You,” insisted James breathlessly. Thomas mimicked the motion he had made to evoke such an illicit sound, and again James responded quite audibly.

“ _You’re_ a slut,” Thomas grinned. His lips trailed to the side of James’s mouth.

“Oh my god, shut up and keep doing that.”

Thomas shifted himself slightly to get better angle. Each movement of his wrist drew a low groan from his friend, who clutched Thomas’s shoulder with white knuckles. Thomas’s tongue traced the inner line of James’s lip slowly. He could feel James’s loose groans roll off his tongue, and they alone were nearly enough to make Thomas ready for a round two.

“Thomas,” James whined, blocking his friend’s next kiss with his hand. “Your mouth. Now.” His voice was laced with winded neediness, and again he groaned as Thomas’s hand slid over his slick erection.

Thomas complied without hesitation, laying himself out on his stomach and taking James’s cock in one hand, the other entwined with his friend’s. He lowered his mouth down over the tip and circled it with his tongue. James nearly lost control then and there.

“Ah, not so soon,” he protested. Thomas tried to respond, forgetting he had his mouth full. James yelped. “ _Watch your teeth, Thomas!”_

“Shit,” he said, pulling his head off James. “Sorry. What do you want me to do?”

“Make it last,” James replied. “If we’re never doing this again, I want it to be perfect.”

“Sorry,” Thomas smirked. “I’m just too good at this.”

“You wish.”

Thomas chuckled and took James into his mouth again, slowly inching forward as he tested how much he could take at once. James pressed insistently with his hips, but Thomas ignored him as best he could, flapping his hand at his friend in an attempt at communicating patience. He drew back off when he choked, and, confident in his limits, moved his mouth again along the shaft. James bit his lip sharply to keep himself from crying out.

“I changed my mind,” James muttered. His eyes were distant and glassy with pleasure. “Faster.”

Thomas let James’s cock fall out of his mouth and glanced up with raised eyebrows. James made a noise of protestation. Thomas smirked. “Wow, it must suck to be teased, huh?”

“ _You_ liked it.” Thomas’s face hovered so close to it, but did not touch it. James could feel his hot breath against his flesh. “Please, Thomas.”

“Begging, are we? How the tables turn, my friend.”

“ _Thomas_.”

“Alright, alright, stop whining.”

James gasped and threw his head back when Thomas leapt straight into vigorously sucking his dick with no preamble, head bobbing up and down with every quick, deft stroke. He leant back, descending into some sweet, blind paradise. Whatever Thomas was doing with his tongue – circling and flicking and rubbing, so hot and so perfect – elicited a long, unabashed moan from James. Those long weeks of waiting in anticipation had been so very worth it for _this_. He was too close to climax to even speak, choosing instead to arch his back and tangle one hand through Thomas’s voluminous hair. He did not last much longer under his friend’s tongue before he lost himself to a fierce trembling and came into Thomas’s mouth with a stifled cry.

Thomas faced a moment of panic as he contemplated what to do when his already full mouth suddenly filled with James’s seed. He made the split second decision to swallow, rather than spit it out onto the floor and leave a mess to be cleaned. He gagged and let James fall from his mouth when the last waves of his orgasm had passed.

“That’s disgusting,” he coughed, more to himself than to his friend, who wasn’t listening anyway.

“Thomas,” James sighed, still caught up in the last dregs of climax. “Oh God, Thomas.”

“I’m right here,” he replied with reluctant fondness. The lust crept from his mind as he gazed at James, rosy-cheeked and panting. For just a moment, he seemed more beautiful to Thomas than any other man or woman in the world. The notion was, of course, ridiculous, but Thomas, in his sensitive, afterglow haze, was willing to hang onto the feeling for just a little bit longer. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and shifted his weight so that he curled up, his face landing inches from James’s. “How are you?”

“Ugh.” James responded by catching Thomas in an airy little kiss, so different from anything they had done in the past. Just a quick peck, really. Soft. Chaste. Unhurried. Thomas’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Since we’re never doing this again,” James murmured into Thomas’s lips, “let’s make this moment last just a little longer. I’m punch drunk.”

“You know what? I’ll take that offer.”

Their lips locked as if consummating the deal. Their countless tiny kisses were not at all like the hungry, depraved, desperate things from earlier; they were gentle and sweet and sleepy, and they dripped with some sort of emotion neither man could quite place. It was the afterglow, clearly. Obviously. The kisses were the sort of kisses one smiled into, the sort one laughed into- the sort only two friends stolen away furtively into some side office could share. They were perfect in every way imaginable, and they were their little secret, locked away in that unblemished moment in time. They had not spent weeks thinking of nothing but those kisses, but goddamnit if they weren’t the best surprise to top the entire event off.

The moment could not last forever, and perhaps the two men knew this as they finally drew back one last time, gazing at each other with half-lidded eyes. Two identical satisfied smiles illuminated both faces. Yes, those weeks spent in perpetual torment had been quite worth the wait.

“This has been nice,” James said. “But I think I’m satisfied with this little experiment.”

“Yeah,” said Thomas. “Me too. Hey man, thanks.”

“Thank _you_ ,” James replied. They smiled at each other again, and then Thomas broke the spell by pulling away to a respectable platonic distance. The peaceful moment shattered, and whatever they had become in it died just as quickly as it had been born. Friends. They were only friends again. Thomas slipped off his breeches once more and set about redressing himself completely. James turned his head away in modesty, tucking himself away into his gray pants.

“Anyway,” said Thomas once he had finished snapping up the last button. He rose to his feet and held out a hand to help James up. “Thanks again, James.”

“Mm. And to you.”

“So, we carry this secret to our graves?”

“Absolutely.”

“Right.” They stared at each other for a second before grinning. “This won’t be one for the history books,” Thomas chuckled. He clapped James on the back. “Care to stay for dinner?”

"No thanks. I need to be heading home,” James said. “But I trust I will see you again soon?”

“Undoubtedly,” Thomas replied with a sly grin. “Hamilton’s ass isn’t gonna kick itself. I’ll walk you out.”

Thomas watched James’s carriage depart, and, as the two men grew farther and farther away, they were unaware that their thoughts, not for the first and certainly not for the last time, mirrored each other perfectly. Another issue resolved together. Another story that would be lost to time, just like that quiet moment after the storm. It had been fun, perhaps the most fun either would have in a long, long time, but it had not held any substantial meaning. After all, James was happily married, and Thomas was, well, Thomas. Having gotten what they had begun to covet on that night a few weeks back, the two friends were completely satisfied. There was, frankly, nothing left to be desired. That sort of relationship was wonderful, but simply not for Thomas and James.

They were only friends, after all.             

                                               

                 

        

                    

              

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even ship this what the fuck  
> Okay honestly though I'm sorry this took so long to come out. You'd be shocked at the amount of editing this fic went through. Also, now I have very specific phrases pertaining to men's 18th century undergarments in my search history, so, there's that. I hope you enjoyed the depraved filth.  
> See you all in hell, dorks (and pray that the founding fathers aren't there because they would have some CHOICE words for me if we were to meet)


End file.
